


Confrontation

by Cards_Slash



Series: Arabian Stallions [5]
Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Angry Sex, M/M, Plot, dumb cousins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2018-01-18 10:19:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1424860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cards_Slash/pseuds/Cards_Slash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything is going pretty well until Malik gets an appointment request from Altair's cousin and has to figure out what to do about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confrontation

Malik was somewhat more versatile than his brother who cringed and started crying at the mere suggestion of vagina. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing that his brother was less of a sexual deviant than he was (well, not really _less_ but focused in a smaller area) but it did limit their options. For instance, there were many women that found the idea of having sex with them intriguing but Kadar could only be convinced (or coerced) into accepting about half of the appointments. This left Malik to deal with the other half (or three-quarters) of prospective appointments on his own.

So when Altair dragged him out to the usual dinner-and-a-movie style date and randomly asked him if he missed having sex with women while they were waiting for their appetizers, it was completely honest that Malik said, “well no.” It was one of those hold-your-breath moments because he was more than willing to defend himself against stupidity and Altair was getting more dangerous to him every-single-day. (That was the trouble with falling in love with someone.) 

But Altair had only stared at him for a moment like his brain was stuck in park before he smiled in that self-depreciating way and said, “duh.” Then he segued easily into how he had been stuck in the middle of a conversation about how stingy women could be when it came to ‘the sex’ (as his coworkers apparently put it). 

\--

Now and again, Malik just did not ask Kadar when he took appointments either because the money was worth putting up with his pissy brother and sometimes because they almost always accepted repeat clients. 

“We’re going to a foursome,” Kadar repeated.

Malik refused to affirm that _again_ because it had been six damn times of repeating that they were in fact going to a foursome. (It wasn’t even that spectacular all things considered.) 

“With Maria,” Kadar said.

Nope, he wasn’t getting dragged into it again. So he finished getting dressed and walked out of the apartment while Kadar tried to work through how he felt. They stood outside on the sidewalk and waited for Maria to pick them up. Kadar silenced all of his whining as soon as they were in the car and fell into easy bantering with Maria who was as foul-mouthed as his brother. They could talk a man (or woman) to orgasm without even touching them, or drive someone to the point of madness so it took the least-amount-of-effort to get them off and score perfect scores on the satisfaction survey. 

“So which one of you boys gets the honor of fucking me?” she asked. Because it had originally been her appointment with a special request that they were choosing to honor. Kadar spit out a curse in the backseat about _vagina, damnit_ and Malik rolled his eyes. “Do I get to pick? I want to pick.”

“Gee, what a shock you’ll pick him. I just want to point out two things: one is that you broke up with him for a very good reason. And two he has been dating the same guy for like six months now and you two fucking is basically cheating.”

“Six months,” Maria repeated, “is it that serious?”

“He’s a good guy,” Malik said. A truly decent sort of person that was only a little bit of an asshole but that was manageable because it was easily outweighed by all the things he did like about him. “And we were never dating, Kadar.”

“We just used each other for sex. Besides, if I picked you that would leave Malik to handle the client and I think we all know that proficient though he is at fucking, you are clearly the better salesman. So put your big girl panties on.”

The whole thing wasn’t a disaster in the end, Kadar slid into his role as a cute-faced boy with a filthy-fucking mouth as he lounged next to the client while the two of them directed Malik-and-Maria about how to fuck. It was his dirty-low voice that convinced the client that Maria should eat her out and he was pleased-as-punch with himself when he escaped without having to so much as touch a vagina. 

\--

Maria invited herself over a few days later and showed up with a six pack and a sack of greasy burgers that looked like pure heaven and hell combined. (Malik tried to convince himself not to eat them based on how much he hated the gym and only succeeded in convincing himself to make Altair go with him.) They sat out on the thin balcony at the back of his apartment and ate in the sweet-scented fresh air. 

Maria was wearing all black, skin tight and undeniably attractive like she’d just walked away from a client. There were several little black bracelets around her wrists and the tail end of her newest tattoo visible just below the end of her sleeve. She sucked the grease-and-ketchup off her thumb and took a drink of her beer like she was trying to work out how to phrase something.

“What?” Malik asked.

“I want to meet your boyfriend,” Maria said. “Well, I want to know more about him first and then if it’s not some great big lie about how you file taxes for people or something, I want to meet him.”

Malik rolled his eyes. “He was a client so he’s pretty aware of what I do for a living.”

“With Kadar?”

“Yes.”

Oh and her face was the most vicious kind of grin then, like she was impressed and intrigued all at once. She sat back in her chair. “You should keep him. Is he pretty? Any disgusting habits? Wealthy? Has he asked you to quit being a whore yet?”

Malik considered denying her all of the answers and telling her it was none of her damn business because it was none of her damn business but she was his friend. And he hadn’t told anyone (besides Kadar who kind of knew first hand) because he was still working through how stupid he had been to take a chance on a client anyway. “He isn’t pretty but he’s handsome and his body is hard and tight and fucking fantastic. He will eat literally anything and he snores and I’m pretty sure he’s attracted to the smell of his own arm pits but not in an obsessive or overt way so I’m willing to overlook it. He is well off but I wouldn’t say wealthy. He works in finance or something like that. We’ve talked about what I should be doing if I really do want to open a book store but he hasn’t said he wants me to quit.”

“Picture,” Maria said.

So Malik got his phone out and went through the few pictures he had of Altair before he found one of the man where he wasn’t doing something embarrassing or mostly naked and showed it to her. She whistled her appreciation. “I’ll never introduce you if you are going to make that noise.”

“I’m pretty sure if he is dating you after hiring you and your brother, there’s nothing I can offer him he wants. So what’s his tragedy?”

“Um, he married his high school sweetheart and she was so bad at sex he’s gay now? I’m not sure how he feels about it because he literally never even talks about her and there’s no pictures of her in the house.”

Maria wrinkled her nose at that. “Well either he never cared enough to keep some or he cleaned them out when she left. Either way, she doesn’t seem like a threat. Are you happy?”

Malik nodded. 

“Then cheers,” Maria said. She tipped her bottle to his and they clinked together. They dissolved into ‘shop talk’ trading stories of terrible encounters with questionable clients and the ones where they were left wondering what purpose they even served. Like the time Maria was paid a thousand dollars to wear a costume and dust things while standing on a footstool. “I think I’d rather just do the sex, you know. The weird stuff is kind of weird.”

Malik was laughing-hard when his phone chimed with a new appointment request. He was fuzzy from drinking but nowhere near drunk when he unlocked his phone and opened the message. It was company policy to show them the full name of whoever was requesting to avoid repeating that unfortunate incident where the girl agreed to show up at her brother’s bachelor party without realizing it. “Oh fuck,” Malik said when he saw the name. Everything went all white around the edges and he actually found himself standing without even realizing that he’d moved. 

“What?” Maria asked.

“Uh,” he said, “nothing.” He sat back down and opened the ongoing conversation he always seemed to be having with Altair to ask him if he was going to be busy next Saturday in as casual a manner as he could manage. And the whole world tightened to a point of rage when the ‘ _just hanging out with Ezio while he cries about sports again_ ’ popped up. “Fuck,” Malik said.

“What?” Maria repeated. “Are you okay?” And when he deflected her questions she was kind enough to allow it.

\--

Ezio, as it turned out, was probably rich. He lived in the single most disgustingly upscale condos Malik had ever seen. They oozed pompous importance in a way that made Malik’s skin crawl as he stood outside looking up at them. Kadar had dropped him off up the street with a questioning-worried look (because Malik hadn’t figured out how to tell him anything) and a promise to be back when called. 

Malik found his way to Ezio’s door with only a few hiccups along the way and stood there looking at his watch and waiting until exactly 1:30 in the afternoon before he let out a breath and reached up to knock on the door. It-was-a setup, of course. Because Ezio had ordered him to appear at the same time Altair was going to be there. The best that Malik could possibly hope for was an anticlimactic scene and the worse was Altair’s anger and Ezio’s smug victory. (No matter how he played out this whole scenario, it seemed easiest and quickest to just show up at this door rather than wait for Ezio to try something else.)

The door opened and Ezio smiled at him the same way he’d smiled at him any-other-time they met. “Hi,” he even said.

“Hello,” Malik said and, “can I come in?”

Ezio swept his arm toward the interior of his home and held the door for him until he was inside. He pushed the door shut and stood there in the impressive little foyer while they regarded one another. Ezio was dressed with the same precise attention to detail he always was and Malik was wearing his fuck-me clothes with both fists in his pockets. “I didn’t think you’d show up.”

“I’m only allowed to turn down so many appointments a month,” he said. It was true but it wasn’t applicable to this situation. “You have fifteen minutes to change your mind. After the first fifteen minutes you’ll be charged the full rate regardless of how long I’m here or what happens.”

“I know the spiel,” Ezio said. He waved his hand like it was irrelevant to him and set his body in something approximating relaxation. “I really cannot believe you’re here.”

“I’m still working through your deeply secret homosexual longings,” Malik said. 

“Who was—” Altair stopped at the doorway of the foyer with his mouth hanging open and a bowl of chips in one hand. His face went all blank as he looked from Ezio by the wall to Malik (and Altair absolutely recognized the clothes). His cheeks started to go pink and his eyebrows went all tight as his mouth turned down in an ugly frown. Malik was bracing himself for a fight. (He’d thought of a hundred different defenses, rehearsed them instead of sleeping, memorized every comeback he could think of and he still felt underprepared.) “You _asshole_ ,” Altair said. He threw-or-dropped the bowl of chips but when he moved it wasn’t at Malik but Ezio.

Ezio who reacted faster than Malik might have given him credit for but still got punched in his stupid face and tackled to the ground. They went down gracelessly, and the decorative vase on the table by the door toppled over and broken on the floor just feet away from where they were wrestling. “Stop!” Ezio shouted.

“Fuck you!” Altair shouted back. He was landing more hits than Ezio, backed by his anger for maximum injury. Malik grabbed Altair by the chest and hauled him off Ezio and only barely managed to avoid getting elbowed in the face. 

“I’m bleeding,” Ezio said from the floor. He was touching the open gash on his cheekbone with the same ugly frown that Altair had. “How many times do you have to be told not to hit my face!”

Altair shook away from him to attack again and Ezio only just barely made it to his feet and out of the way of getting punched again. He danced to the side and put both of his hands up in defeat. 

“Alright,” Ezio said, “dick move, I’ve got it! How the hell was I supposed to know that you knew you were dating a hooker?”

If possible, that made Altair even angrier. Malik stepped in front of Ezio because he couldn’t just stand there and let the man get himself killed because he couldn’t control his own mouth. Altair stopped short on his way to punch his cousin again and looked at Malik like he didn’t understand why he was even there. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Altair said. “You knew I was going to be here.”

“Would it have been better if I told you? I think no matter what I did, we ended up right here.” 

Ezio was rubbing his face just to the side of him, still grimacing about the blood coming from the cut on his face. “I think we all need a drink.”

\--

Altair didn’t drink but sit perched on the edge of the chair like a furious bird of prey waiting for the right moment to strike. Malik accepted a drink because it seemed courtesy and he neglected to remind Ezio that he only had a few minutes left to decline his services because he could be petty and vengeful when the mood struck him.

“Well this went a little different than I imagined.”

Altair didn’t look at him but at Malik when he said, “you haven’t called them to verify you have a phone and two exits. There’s a balcony through the master bedroom at the end of that hallway.” He pointed over his shoulder and reached over to grab the handset to throw at him. 

Malik caught it rather than let it hit the ground and held it loosely in his hand while he worked out what he should do. He turned to look at Ezio, “you should really decline my services at this point.”

Ezio opened his mouth to say something but Altair cut him off. “No he’s not declining your services. He’s going to pay you every fucking cent he signed up for with a smile on his fucking face. Call them.” 

Ezio shrugged and motioned at the phone, “please.”

Malik wanted nothing so much as he wanted to be out of the room between them but he turned the phone over twice and then made the call and assured the secretary that he felt safe and everything was good. She reminded him to check in if the appointment lasted longer than the scheduled time and he said he would. “I’m not having sex with you,” Malik said. 

“What were you even hoping to accomplish?” Altair demanded, “did you think I’d find out you ordered my boyfriend and I would dump him and you could be some kind of hero? Was this scheme supposed to spare my feelings somehow? Even if you’d found him on the website, this is what you chose to do with the knowledge rather than just asking? Rather than showing me what you’d found?”

“There wasn’t a whole lot of thought involved. Besides you’re naïve on a good day and blind when it comes to someone that you’re in love with. Even if I showed you a website you’d think it was a prank.” Ezio had an ice pack pressed to his face as he gestured into the general air around them. “So, yes I thought this would be the easiest way.”

“Except that I know what he does,” Altair snapped.

“Well imagine my surprise!” Ezio shouted back. “Do you know about his brother?”

“I’ve fucked his brother,” Altair said. “I’ve fucked them both _at the same time_. Do you want details?”

“Please share,” Ezio said.

“Please don’t,” Malik said. And his voice in the middle of their shouting was a low point that seemed to infuriate both of them. “Leave my brother out of this.”

Altair lapsed back into silent fury and Ezio sat in straight-backed righteousness. Malik took another drink and set the phone on the ridiculously overpriced coffee table in front of him. He considered the living room he was sitting in, the incredibly clear picture on the giant TV, the high-end decorations and the luxurious feeling of the couch he was sitting on. He considered how he was going to excuse himself from this particular fight and when he came up with nothing he cleared his throat and took another drink.

“I’m sorry,” Ezio said after a long pause. “Clearly I was wrong about the situation.”

“Fuck you,” Altair snapped.

Ezio rolled his eyes, “what do you want?”

“Grovel,” Altair said. There was nothing forgiving in his face, not even a faint trace of good humor as he glared at his cousin. If Malik hadn’t met the man before, hadn’t known him under a hundred different circumstances he might have believed the very-worst-things about Altair from the murder in his expression. 

“I’m not Desmond,” Ezio said. Then he looked at Malik, “I sincerely wish you the best. I am sorry that I assumed you were dating my cousin under false pretenses and that I staged this entire thing to reveal you as a hooker. I do not think anything negative or derogatory toward you based on your profession.”

“Yeah, okay,” Malik said.

“We’re leaving,” Altair said. 

\--

They drove back to Altair’s house in silence. They made it from the car to the house in silence, stopping only briefly to wave and smile at a neighbor who called hello. Altair took off his light jacket and hung it on the hooks by the door in silence and Malik stood there feeling awkward and strange about his sex clothes.

Then Altair dragged him forward with both fists in his shirt, pulled him so he was on his toes and their mouths were crushed together hard enough to make him gasp in shock. One of Altair’s fists stayed in his shirt and the other was down at his ass dragging him forward so he could feel the enraged hardness of his dick. Malik put one arm across Altair’s shoulders and the other around his back and kissed him back just-as-hard. 

It was step-step-stumble and then Malik was slammed against a wall and Altair’s hand was down at his waistband yanking his pants open so he could shove his hand inside. He was brutal-impersonal-efficient and pulling Malik’s dick out and stroking it into full hardness. His mouth moved down away from Malik’s, his head ducked so that he could breath muggy-hot breaths against his neck before he nipped-and-sucked at it. There would be marks there and Malik tipped his head back because he didn’t fucking care. 

His hands tore Altair’s shirt open, sent buttons flying across the room before he worked it back off his arms and then pulled his undershirt over his head and dropped it on the floor so he could feel the ripple of muscles moving in Altair’s back. Altair didn’t tear his shirt but shoved it up to his armpits so he could bite at his chest, sucked at one of his nipples as he pushed Malik’s pants down off his ass. 

“Shit,” Malik said at the tight grip on his ass, at the way his body was arching against Altair’s. There were red-wet spots of pain from his neck to his navel and Altair was rising back up to kiss him just as hard and unforgiving as he had a moment ago. Malik toed his shoes off, wiggled his pants down to the ground to step out of them and then tugged at Altair’s belt-and-pants until they were open. “Fuck me,” he said. 

Altair shoved him back against the wall, pulled him up off the floor and held him in place with hard hands and the grinding-tight-thrust of his hips. They were nothing but grunting animals, gripping and scratching and biting at one another until Altair pulled back and Malik’s feet hit the floor.

They made it the short distance between door and living room to where they hid lube and condoms in the drawer of the side table. Altair shoved Malik face-first into the couch and dug into drawer.

It was a torn-open condom wrapper and the quick click of an opening lid over the sound of Malik’s raging heartbeat and the confusion of hurt and anger in his chest. He was hot-and-cold and getting his elbows under his body with one of his knees against the cushion and the other leg hanging off the side. Altair fit against his back easily, spilled a cold wash of lube against him before his arm went around Malik’s ribs and his dick was pushing into him. It was a hard-stretch that burned-and-hurt and Malik was shaking with his face pressed against his own arm and Altair’s panting breath against his back. 

“Ah, fuck,” Altair gasped. He stilled in place and rubbed his face against Malik’s shirt. It was a brief respite before Altair was moving, fucking into him with short-little thrusts that made him sink deeper-and-deeper. The burn faded away and Malik was gasping little moans as Altair fucked into him with no remorse. 

He could take it because he’d had worse (a lot worse) and he had made a profession out of letting people use his body but Altair was fucking him like he didn’t even care who Malik was (or like he wanted to punish him). Malik braced his hand against the arm of the couch and twisted around to wrap his arm around Altair’s shoulders. Altair kissed him in a purely placating manner and put a hand on his back to shove him down again. 

“God,” Malik groaned against the cushion. Then he said, “stop.” 

Altair stilled, mouth open against his back, leaving the damp impression of his teeth through the shirt. His hands were gripping at Malik’s body but he went still and the sudden stop was almost as awful as the angry fucking had been. “You asked,” Altair said.

“Let me turn over,” Malik said. He had zoned out on fucking plenty of people in his life, had fallen into the rhythm and let his brain wander away to mundane things because he’d fucked enough people he felt nothing for to afford him the opportunity. He did it to Altair sometimes (without intending to) whenever he found a comfortable angle. And Altair was always spitting mad about it, knew the exact second Malik’s attention wandered off because he could feel the difference (who wouldn’t) but Malik had never been fucked by someone he loved like he was nothing but a _thing_. 

Altair moved back to give him space, watched patiently while Malik stripped off his shirt and resettled on the couch. He was back up against him as soon as Malik’s legs were open to give him space, staring down at his ass and licking-his-lips as he pushed back inside of him. But he was looking at Malik now, one arm straight and hanging onto the edge of the couch. His body was magnificent as he it moved, the fluid way it moved as Altair thrust into him—going deep and slow. There was sweat on his face and neck, his mouth was bright-red and pink all around his lips from how they’d attacked one another. 

Malik put his hands on Altair’s body, hooked one of his legs around his back and pulled him closer. It changed the depth-and-angle of Altair moving in him and he didn’t even fucking care because he could touch the man wherever he wanted and he could kiss him. They kissed like idiots, hanging onto one another’s bodies even when they lapsed into nothing more than an occasional grind. 

“Let me get on top,” Malik said. And Altair pulled him up with two arms around his back and the muscles in his arm quivering with effort. Altair sat back against the couch and Malik crouched over him, fucking himself on Altair. He rubbed his dick against the heated-skin of Altair’s stomach with ever bounce on his dick until they were both reduced to nothing more than moans-and-groans and needy grips of their hands. “Fuck,” Malik said, “fuck, fuck.”

Altair’s hand was on his dick and it was _perfect_ in that moment.

\--

They showered separately because it seemed like the only logical thing to do. Malik found Altair sitting on the edge of his bed with his shoulders slumped forward so he went around to sit next to him.

“You could have just told me,” Altair said, “Ezio’s known me long enough to be right that I wouldn’t have believed him if I hadn’t already known but there’s no reason you couldn’t have told me.”

“Well, I find myself unable to walk away from a confrontation. It’s a character flaw. I’m sorry.” 

Altair looked at him but there was no real hatred in the look, just brief annoyance. “I’ll remember that just in case you show up at my Grandma’s house in your fuck-date clothes. Look, I know that it’s probably not fair and that it probably won’t ever be a thing again but could you not have sex with my relatives or friends?”

“I’m pretty sure that after you tried to break Ezio’s face nobody else is going to try but, I can do that.” 

Altair smirked briefly at the mention of Ezio’s broken face and then straightened up with a sigh. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have even kissed you when I was mad much less do…what I did. It wasn’t fair to you.”

“You weren’t the only one that should have known better,” Malik said. “I should call my brother—and the company. They’re probably still charging Ezio.”

“Fuck Ezio,” Altair said, “you know that I love you, right? You know that I understand what you do and that it doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

“Yeah,” Malik said. He waited an awkward moment and pulled his phone out to send a message to his brother and the company (because he didn’t feel like talking) while Altair sat next to him and picked at his pajama pants. “So, my friend Maria wants to meet you.”

“Oh my God, you have friends?” Altair said. 

Malik slapped him on the arm. “I am aware that I’ve kept you well hidden from everyone. It’s because they’re all horny, terrible people who will salivate on your shoes while they try to figure out how to steal you from me.”

“So, they’re exactly like Kadar?” Altair said.

Malik laughed and Altair glowed with mighty achievement. “Yes,” Malik said, “they’re exactly like Kadar.”

**Author's Note:**

> couldn't decide if i wanted to run with the cousin finds out Malik's profession story line or sexy bisexual threesome plotline. alas, the many woes of my life.


End file.
